


Sleepy Spider

by Erica45



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Peter Parker Acts Like a Spider, idk - Freeform, probably other things but i can't think of anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-01-05 20:16:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18373319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erica45/pseuds/Erica45
Summary: Peter has been acting strange for a while, always tired and not always there. Michelle didn't think too much of it. It wasn't the first time that he'd been strange and she knew it would not be the last.Although she realized she should have been more aware of it after she and May found him the way they did.





	1. Study Time

Michelle grumbled as the chill seeped into her legs, the wind biting through her jeans like they weren't even there. She knew that by the time she got home, her skin would be red from the cold. She shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets, tucking her face against her gray infinity scarf. Breathing in the somewhat warmer air, she shot the walk sign a glare as she willed it to change to the little white man. No luck, the red hand stubbornly waved back at her.

“Hurry up,” she hissed and ignored the glances she got from the other people waiting with her. She wasn’t talking to them. They could fuck off. 

Maybe she was being too harsh, but it was _cold_ , and she was entitled to some mild griping. She breathed into her scarf again and appreciated the warmer air on her face. Then finally the walking man flickered, and she and the few other people started across the street. She was slightly irritated by how that made her feel like a sheep and part of a flock. She quickened her pace so she wouldn’t be apart of it. The thudding of her heavy boots echoed in her ears despite the bustle of the city around her.

After walking down half of the block, Michelle found what she was looking for and quickly moved over so she could enter the small cafe. Once inside, warm air washed over her, and she undid her scarf so it was only looped once around her neck.

Glancing around the small store, Michelle checked to see who else was there. There were a few other people sitting at the booths, but she was happy to see there were at least two that didn’t have anyone sitting at them. She recognized a face or two from previous times she’d been in there, but she didn’t see anyone she was looking for.

That was fine. It wasn’t the first time that they’d arrived after her.

Digging out her wallet from her coat pocket, she walked up to the cashier. A soft looking, middle aged woman smiled at her and placed her hands on the counter. “Welcome, what can I get you?”

Michelle nodded at her–the closest she’d get to returning the cheerful greeting. “Umm... a medium coffee please?”

“Sure thing.” The woman started putting it into the till. “Anything in it?” When Michelle shook her head, she continued, “That’s for here again, right?”

“Yeah.” Michelle scratched at her nose. She didn’t know that she’d been around enough times for the cashier to recognize her.

Another nod. “Alright, anything else? No? That will be $1.25.”

As she fished out the proper amount, the woman bustled around, grabbing a china cup and filling it with the almost black beverage. Michelle placed the bills on the counter and turned so she could look out the display window. The combination of the snow and low light made the world outside almost completely monochrome, everything tinted gray. 

She’d heard her classmates cheer about the snow earlier, some of them gushing about snow days and ski trips. Whatever. It didn’t mean anymore to her then what shoes she need to put on it the morning. 

“Here you go, Sweetie.” Michelle snapped her eyes back to the cheery woman and tried not to grimace. She was too happy, but it wasn’t fake. No, the barista’s kindness was obviously genuine and that was worse–to Michelle anyways. She didn’t know how to deal with people like that. She settled with a quiet thank you and took the cup and saucer off the counter.

She turned away, looking for a free booth. Finding one, she went over and placed her cup down. Soon enough, she’d settled herself against the wall and had all of her notes and papers out around her. Scarf off, coat pooled around her waist, Michelle was quite comfortable and content to ignore the chilly outside world as she studied. 

Taking her third sip of coffee, she glanced up to the sound of a bell chime. The door swung open and two teens her age entered the cafe, the larger of the two dragging the other behind him. His eyes quickly surveyed the place and brightened when he saw her. Ned smiled widely and waved. Peter followed his eyeline and gave a far less enthusiastic greeting. Michelle just raised her mug in a salute before taking another sip. 

She hadn’t expected anything different from the two of them. Ned was a cinnamon-roll, and while Peter was normally even more of one, he’d been lethargic all week. Hey, sometimes people were just tired. She didn’t hold it against him. 

Satisfied that she’d used adequate social cues, she turned back to the notes in front of her. She only looked up again when china clattered onto the table and Peter flopped down across from her. He was already biting into a pastry as Ned dug around for his notes.

“Sup, Losers.” She smirked and sipped at her drink. 

Still chewing, Peter shot her an exasperated look. Her smirk didn’t fall. She knew that he was aware that it was her term of endearment–at least she was pretty sure he knew. Taking a moment, she looked the two of them over, noticing that while Ned had shrugged himself out of his thick winter coat, Peter kept his ratty one zipped up. Looking closer, she thought she recognized two sweaters poking out from around his neck.

She jerked her chin at him. “You cold or something?” 

Peter looked up at her then took a gulp from his own mug. “Very.”

“It’s heated in here.”

Peter just shrugged.

“Okay,” Ned started and placed his binder down in front of him. “Economics test?”

Peter groaned and thunked his head against the table. “Kill me now.”

“Eh, maybe later,” Michelle offered.

“That doesn't help. I need to die before the test–not after it,” he grumbled, turning his head to press his cheek onto the table. He looked up at her through his bangs with a pleading expression. 

Michelle ignored how that made his chocolate puppy dog eyes even cuter. Wait no, she didn’t just think that. His eyes were not endearing at all, and she wasn’t fighting to keep a real smile off her face.

When she didn’t say anything, he sighed and managed to slump over even further.

“Come on, man. You’re not that bad,” Ned tried, flipping through his binder. When he found the page he was looking for, he took a sip from his drink.

“Say that to my marks,” Peter grumbled as he sat up so he could get his own notes from his bag. 

“Dude, you have a eighty-nine,” Ned informed him helpfully, or not if you were Peter–definitely not. He shot Ned a half hearted glare before yawning into his shoulder. He shook his head minutely but with more force than was necessary.

Michelle frowned at him but didn’t comment. She already knew that he was tired. Shrugging, she started throwing questions at them. Peter glared at her again but didn’t hesitate to answer. Ned was just as quick. It felt like Academic Decathlon with how rapid fire it was. They studied and questioned each other for a least an hour, Peter yawning throughout all of it. 

Michelle tried to ignore it, but after maybe the hundredth one, she stopped and leaned on her forearms. “What's up with you?”

“Nothing, ’m fin–” He started then yawned again. He tried to cover it with the back of his hand. When he lowered it again, blinked wearily at her, she raised a brow. He grimaced. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Aren’t you drinking coffee?”

Peter snorted and shook his head. Ned looked up at that, his face strained. “Oh no, nononnono,” he started and pingballed his head between the two of them. “Peter - Coffee. No. He can’t drink coffee.”

Michelle frowned and looked at Peter. He nodded and tapped the rim of his mug. “This is tea. Non-caffeinated.”

“Why can’t you have caffeine?” she asked, tilting her head.

His eyes flicked up at her, holding for a second before he shrugged. “I go nuts if I drink it.”

“Yeah,” Ned jumped back it. “The last time that he did, I had to get Mr. Stark to drag him back to the compound–which was totally awesome–but not the point. He was swinging everywhere and not making any sense. It was kinda funny actually.”

“I ran into a couple walls,” Peter grumbled into his cup then hid another yawn behind it.

“Yes, yes you did.” Ned snickered. “They got that on YouTube. It was hilarious. Very hilarious. But bad. You broke your nose.” 

Peter nodded and rubbed his thumb over said nose, probably remembering the break. 

Michelle just continued to frown at them, not getting it. Maybe if her mind wasn’t half in her notes, she would have. Hey, just ‘cause she was the one forcing others to study didn’t mean she didn’t get overwhelmed at times, too. 

When Ned noticed her non-computing expression he added, “Spiders don’t react well to caffeine.”

“Ah.” Right, spider DNA. She knew that. She’d actually figured him out before she’d gotten them to tell her. Like come on, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. Peter was never around when Spider-Man was, and he had too many muscles not to be enhanced in some way. There were other reasons, but she couldn’t think of them at the moment.

“Right,” she deadpanned then went back to throwing questions at them. They easily slipped back into study mind. Well, Ned did. He answered the questions with only a few slip ups, but as the next hour continued, Peter was becoming more and more sluggish. He only registered the questions half the times and was slowly slouching further onto the table.

Finally, Michelle sat back, closed her book with a thump, and started to pack up. “Okay, Peter is clearly not awake enough for this, so I’m going to get him home.”

Peter jerked at the noise and rubbed at his face. “No, ’m fine. What was the question?”

Putting her books back into her bag she shot him a look. “Peter, that’s the tenth time you’ve asked that.”

“Oh.” 

She snorted. “Yeah, _oh_. Come on. We’re getting you home. I don’t trust you not to Spider-Man off or fall asleep in some alley.”

“I’m not that bad,” he grumbled but also started to pack up. At least he didn’t have to shimmy back into a coat. He still hadn’t taken his off.

Ned chuckled. “Yeah, man, you are.” Then he laughed at the betrayed look that Peter shot him.

“Come on, Loser. You need a nap.” Michelle told him earning her a disagreeing grunt. She ignored him and turned to Ned. “You going to help me get this idiot home?”

Ned paused as he pulled his coat on and flicked his eyes from her to Peter and back again. Finally, he smirked. “Nah, you’ve got this. Besides, Mom wants me home early because apparently a storm is going to hit us soon.”

“Yaaay,” Peter grumbled and slipped out of the booth, barely managing not to stumble when he stood up. He straightened and slung his bag over one shoulder, a sleepy frown pulling at his face.

Michelle rolled her eyes at him and started towards the door. “Suit yourself.”

“I will,” Ned promised as the boys followed her out into the chilly air. 

“You’re not touching my suit,” Peter told him and shivered, his teeth clacking together. He tucked his chin to his chest and his shoulders crept towards his ears. Michelle wondered if he was trying to be Turtle-Man instead of Spider-Man.

Ned laughed and waved goodbye since he was headed in the opposite direction. Once he had turned away from them, Michelle tugged on Peter’s arm. He followed obediently and didn’t complain as she led him home. As they walked, the snow continued to fall, even becoming heavier. Maybe Ned was onto something about there being a storm on its way. The sky above them was nearly solid from the overcast, the only light coming from the yellow street lights.


	2. Home

As they walked, the snow continued to fall, even becoming heavier. Large clumped together flakes floated down around them, the wind stinging their cheeks. Maybe Ned was onto something about there being a storm on its way. The sky above them was nearly solid from the overcast, the only light coming from the yellow street lights.

About twenty minutes later, they climbed the short steps up to his building, and Peter hung back as he fumbled with his keys. He got them out of his pocket, but his fingers were too stiff to find the right ones. 

Gently she took them from him and unlocked the entrance door. “Where are your mitts?”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looked away. “Lost them.”

Holding the door open for him, she gave him a look. 

He fidgeted for a moment, avoiding her gaze. Finally, he slumped and mumbled. “I at least have a place to go home to. He needed them more then me.”

She blinked at him then shook her head. “Parker, you must be one of the most selfless people I know. You gave them to a homeless person?”

“His fingers were blue,” he defended. “I can handle going without for a while.” He looked at her mulishly for a moment before yawning again.

She sighed and jerked her head towards the elevator. “Let’s go.”

He nodded and soon enough she was going through his keys to find the right one for his apartment. While she was finding it, he leaned against the wall, his hair falling into his face. It was flecked with snow and slightly wet. He didn’t seem to care; the water dripped down his cheek without him trying to wipe it away.

She gave him a soft smirk that might have been a smile–if he saw it–then poked his shoulder. “Door’s open.”

“Hmm?” He glanced at it then nodded, waving her inside.

Michelle rolled her eyes but went first. Immediately, a warm voice called from the kitchen. “Hey, how did your study session go?”

“He didn’t stay awake for it,” Michelle called back and a woman peeked her head out from behind the open fridge. She had a pair of glasses drooping down her nose and her dark brown hair was tied back in a messy bun. She still had her light blue nursing scrubs on.

“Oh! MJ, what are you doing here?”

Michelle jerked her head to Peter. “Wanted to make sure he got home.” He’d taken his coat and boots off and was heading for the couch. He waved at his aunt before flopping onto the cushions. 

May glanced at her and walked over to peer down at him. Michelle followed and they both watched when he peeked one eye open. Grunting, he snuggled deeper into the couch, shoving his hands into his armpits. “She’s worrying for nothing,” he grumbled, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. 

“What was that?” Michelle asked, leaning on the back of the couch.

“Nothing, ma’am,” he murmured and pressed his face into the throw pillow he’d fallen on.

“Didn’t think so,” She quipped then looked at May. “He could barely pay attention to anything we were saying. I didn’t trust him to get here on his own.”

May snickered. “He’s been really tired recently. I don’t blame you.”

“Ha, hear that? She doesn't trust you either.” 

He groaned and continued with his impression of suffocating himself with the throw pillow. 

May leaned over the couch and ran her fingers through Peter’s hair. His face scrunched slightly, but then he smiled and leaned into her touch. After a moment, he fished around and tugged at the blanket by his feet. He pulled it up and bundled himself into a fluffy burrito. 

Michelle watched them for a moment then suddenly shivered. Rubbing her hand over her arm she asked, “God, is the heating even on right now?” It wasn't as bad as outside but it was enough that she noticed it.

Snorting in amusement, May looked back at her. “You’d think not. Technically it’s on, but it’s been spotty all week. It comes on then it goes off again. Our landlord keeps saying that he’s fixing it but…” May shrugged. “It is what it is. In the meantime, we’ve been bundling up.”

“Peter more than you,” Michelle commented, remembering the two or three sweaters that he was sporting. He just grunted from where he was hidden under the covers.

May smiled. She glanced at her then down at the watch on her wrist. “You sure that you’re okay getting home? It’s fairly late.”

Michelle opened her mouth to assure her that she’ll be fine, she wasn’t helpless, but then both of their phones pinged. They pulled them out and Michelle had a severe weather warning blinking at her. She stared at it for a moment then sighed. “Well, Ned really was right about the storm.”

May laughed then offered, “You can stay the night. Actually, I want you to. This says it’s white out conditions, and I’d feel better knowing that you’re safe. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time you slept over.”

Michelle hummed and glanced at the time–8:26 p.m. When she looked out the window through Peter’s open door, she saw that the flurries had begun in earnest. She shifted her weight around. “I didn’t bring any clothes with me.”

“I have some fuzzy pajamas that you can borrow,” May assured her, then with a smirk she added, “Or you can take Peter’s Hello Kitty ones.”

“Those are mine,” Peter called from the couch, his voice heavy with sleep. “Back off.”

“Considering how you got them, I don’t know how you like them,” May shot back. He didn’t say anything to that.

May lip’s quirked smugly at her nephew before she twisted towards Michelle and raised a brow. Michelle chewed on her lip and glanced out the window again; it was nearly white. The blizzard had hit. “Alright.” She gave in. “I’ll stay.” She dropped her bag at the base of the couch and pulled her coat off.

May cheered and wrapped her in a warm hug. “Great, I’ll get them, and then we can watch a movie.”

“Not Star Wars,” Michelle declared, placing her scarf and coat by the front door with her boots. Peter let out an offended whine. Just to be clear, she honestly didn’t mind the movies, but she’d just seen them too often recently.

May snorted and dragged her to her room. “Stargate?”

“That’s not a movie. It’s a show. And why do so many Sci-Fi titles start with Star? And which one, SG-1 or SGA?” Michelle asked, watching May as she rummaged through her dresser.

“It started as a movie, and I really don't know. It's easy?” May shrugged and pulled out a pair of plaid pj bottoms. Throwing them at her, May opened another drawer. “Hmmm… let’s go with early SG-1.”

Catching the pants, Michelle grinned. “Wanting to watch Macgyver be sassy?”

“Shush you,” May scolded then held up a blue long sleeve top. “This should do. Now get changed while I make us some hot chocolate.” With that, she marched out of her room, closing the door after her.


	3. Movie Night

After Michelle was changed, she stepped out into the common area. May was bustling in the kitchen, the electric kettle bubbling away. There was also a distinct smell of popcorn. Chuckling, she hoped that May didn’t somehow manage to burn it. Walking over to the couches, she peered at the one that Peter had claimed. He was still there, the cover tucked around him with his arms curled against his chest. His hair had dried funny and was a curly mess over his eyes, but it didn’t look bad. Not bad at all. He did seem a little paler though, making his lips stand out a little more on his face.

Michelle shook herself off that train of thought and perched on the adjacent loveseat. “You asleep?”

“Merf.” He jerked a little and blinked at her. He frowned, tilting his head to face her more clearly. “MJ?”

“Yup.” She smirked. “Did you forget I was here?”

“Noooo…?” he drew out, then fell back against the pillow. “No.”

“Did you just decide that?” Michelle asked, pulling her legs up onto the cushions.

He frowned again and shook his head. “No. I just…?” He blinked a few times, then his eyelids fluttered shut.

Snickering, Michelle decided to leave him alone. He was obviously too out of it to think clearly. Although she did wonder why. 

Getting up, she joined May in the kitchen. “Do you know why he’s been so tired?”

The older woman glanced at her then finished scooping hot chocolate powder into three cups. Pouring the boiled water evenly into them, she hummed, “Honestly? I’m not too sure. It started about a week ago, Tuesday… night? Or Wednesday. Anyway, it just seemed like he hadn’t woken up at all.”

Leaning against the fridge, Michelle mulled that over. “Did he even go to bed?”

“Oh, he was in bed,” May assured her. “Tony called me two days ago to comment on the lack of hours in the suit. Apparently, he’d asked Peter about it, and he’d just insisted that he was fine.”

“Yeah, he’s good at that,” Michelle commented dryly.

“Too good,” May agreed. She looked at the cups for a moment then rubbed her cheek. “I hate how he’s become so sure that he’s a bother to people.” She sighed then shooed Michelle away from the fridge. Taking the cream out, she poured some into the cups. “Anyway, Tony wanted to know if he was doing anything that would explain why he was staying home. Unfortunately, I really don’t have the answer.”

Michelle hummed in the back of her throat making a merrrr sound. “Well, I don’t either.”

May glanced at her, face scrunching affectionately, and they shared a shrug. Capping the cream carton, she held it out and Michelle took it. As she put it away, she heard the clinking of china and accepted her cup after May had properly stirred it.

She took an experimental sip and sank against the fridge again. “So warm,” she practically sang.

May chuckled and grabbing the other two mugs, leading them back to the living room area. Michelle claimed her original place on the loveseat. Once she was seated, she perked up. “Oh, I stole a pair of fuzzy socks.” Sticking out a foot she showed off the candy cane fluff on her feet.

Setting a mug on the coffee table in front of Peter, May looked at her and laughed at the extended limb. “I can see that.” She reached out and tweaked her toes. Michelle squeaked and pull it back. “Just give them back to me tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Michelle agreed and tucked herself further into the loveseat corner, sipping at her drink.

May smiled at her, the lines around her eyes deepening, and Michelle tried not to squirm at the obvious affection on her face. She’d gotten used to it from May, but from time to time, it still made her slightly uncomfortable. 

Soon enough, but longer then she was comfortable with, May turned away and knelt down beside her nephew. Shaking his shoulder, she peered into his face. “Peter? Hot chocolate is ready.”

At first he didn’t even twitch, but as she shook him, he stirred. “Hmmermm?” he groaned and blinked foggily up at his aunt. Yawning, he rubbed a fist into one of his eyes. “Whaaa?”

Michelle bit her lip at his sleepy confusion and hid behind her mug. He really was too precious at times. Quickly, she scowled to herself and focused her eyes on May instead of her friend. Emphasis on _friend_.

May smiled softly and sat back. “Hot chocolate. SG-1. Sound familiar?”

“Maybe?” he hummed, his eyes drooping. 

“None of that, Mister,” May scolded and flicked his forehead. “Wake up enough to eat and drink something. Then you can fall back asleep.”

He grumbled incoherently but heaved himself up and swung his legs over so he was sitting properly. He leaned his forearms on his knees for a moment and just blinked, trying to wake up. May smirked and got up, mostly likely to retrieve the popcorn and something for Peter. 

With her gone, Michelle sat quietly, sipping her hot chocolate, watching as Peter gathered himself. It took him maybe a minute to finally look up and around. When he saw her, he blinked and his face morphed into a dopey grin–and nope that did nothing to her heart. Not a damn thing. It certainly didn’t make her bite back an equally sappy smile.

Peter didn’t seem to notice her dilemma and glanced at the coffee table. When he saw the Iron Man mug, he pointed at it, then at himself, twisting to face her. There were those puppy dog eyes again. 

Michelle laughed. “Yes, that’s yours, you dork.”

“Just checking,” he murmured but otherwise didn’t seem bothered as he reached for it. He gulped some of it down, and she winced; it was still too hot for that, but he didn’t react. Instead, he leaned back against the couch, cradling it to his chest. It looked like he might be trying to absorb it into to his body, to seep the warmth right into his bloodstream. 

She snorted and he opened one eye to frown at her. “What?”

“Nothing.” Michelle smirked and sipped more of her hot chocolate.

Peter tilted his head, and his brows furrowed as his gaze traveled around her face. She quirked a brow as an answer.

Before either of them could decide what to do, May danced back. “Here we go! Popcorn for the ladies and this for you,” she added, offering a plate of reheated pizza out to her nephew, keeping the popcorn bowl balanced on her hip.

Quickly he took it from her, and May placed the popcorn beside Michelle. She watched her find and place the first disk of SG-1 into their player. She looked around for a moment before finding the remote. Soon enough, they were snickering at the outdated movie effects and making disgusted faces at the Goa'uld. They plowed through about three episodes before May called it a night.

Seeing no reason to argue with her, Michelle got up to help her clear the dishes. She grabbed their mugs while May claimed the bowl and Peter`s plate. Although she did pause when she reached for the Iron Man mug. Maybe half way through the pilot episode, Peter had flopped back onto his side and he was obviously asleep. 

Noticing her hesitation, May smirked. “Leave him. I’m happy that he’s getting any sleep. He spends too much time in the suit. Sometimes getting him to even go to bed is a hassle.”

Michelle hummed, following the woman to the kitchen. “Oh, I know.”

May paused and glanced at her. “What does that mean?”

Quickly she realized that could have been taken differently than she meant it. She fought a flush and placed the mugs on the counter. “Nothing bad,” she assured her. “He’s called me a couple of times to get my opinion on Spider-Man issues.” May nodded slowly, her mouth pursing thoughtfully.

Michelle observed her for a moment before snorting. “Although, once it was about homework he forgot. I told him that it was two o'clock in the morning and to figure it out himself.”

May huffed a laugh, shaking her head. “He needs better time management skills,” she commented and placed the butter covered bowl into the sink and started to wash it.

“Yup,” Michelle agreed, picking up a drying cloth. “He’s lucky that he’s so academically smart otherwise there would be no way he would be passing.”

“Just academically?” May inquired, running a scrubby around the inside of the bowl, soapy water sloshing around.

Michelle raised a brow at her. “Has Peter ever had common sense?”

May paused for a moment then pointed a soap covered finger at her. “Point.”

She chuckled then accepted the large bowl when May handed it to her. They worked in silence for a moment then May looked up at her. “Oh, did you call home to tell them where you are?”

Michelle nodded, “Yup. Mom’s fine with it. Even wanted to thank you for keeping me out of the storm.”

May smiled. “Well, you can tell her that it’s no problem. You’re always welcome here. You know that.”

Michelle nodded and looked down, biting her lip. No matter how many times May complimented her, it caught her off guard. It always prompted a warm feeling in her chest. It was never unpleasant, but if she was being honest with herself, she was scared of what it could mean, or more specifically, afraid of the responsibility kindness brought. She knew that the Parkers never expected anything in return, but not everyone was as wholesome as they were. However, she was getting used to it from May. When she first started coming around, she’d frozen and basically hid behind her books. 

A comfortable silence blanketed them and they finished the dishes soon enough. When Michelle had placed the last mug into the cupboard, she quirked a brow at May. “So, who’s going to wake Peter so I can take the couch?”

May laughed and shook her head. “No, he’s completely out. I’d rather not wake him. Just use his bed. He won’t mind.”

Michelle blinked. “Umm, okay.” 

May rolled her eyes and flapped a hand at her. “Shoo, it’s late. Get to bed.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

Moments later, she found herself closing Peter’s bedroom door behind her, the room was dark with only the yellow street light illuminating the cluttered space. Making her way to his bunk bed, she pushed aside scattered pieces of a Lego set with her toes. Then with a snort, she stepped over the half completed Star Wars… thing. She wasn’t too sure what it was but decided that she didn’t really care and the bed was more interesting.

Reaching it, she climbed onto the lower bunk, the mattress squeaking under her weight. Flopping down, she pulled the covers up, wrapping herself in warmth. Snuggling against the pillow, she breathed in the comfortable smells around her as she drifted off.


	4. Hypnos

When Michelle blinked herself into consciousness, she wasn’t too sure where she was. The bed was unfamiliar, the smell wrong, and there was more clutter then what she was used to. She squinted through the gloom, her brain sluggish. A Star Wars poster caught her eye and she sighed. May had asked her to spend the night, and Peter was completely zonked out on the couch, so she’d taken his bed.

Laying there, she stared at the poster, trying to motivate herself into getting up. Eventually, she heaved herself upright, groaning at the effort. 

Coffee, she decided. She needed coffee. With that in mind, she stumbled out of bed and exited the room. When her bare feet met the tile, she hissed and hopped a little. The ground was freezing. “Heating must have cut off again,” she grumbled. She disliked how the cold seeped into her feet but decided to ignore it. Without out seeing much else around her, Michelle made her way to the kitchen and started the motions of making her morning drink. 

Fill the coffee maker with water, put it back onto its station, place the coffee packet where it goes, stand staring at it while it boils. She could handle that, maybe.

Well, the last part wasn't as necessary as the other steps, but she wasn't computing enough to do anything else.

When the device dinged, she realized that she needed a mug and went to retrieve one. She settled on one with a white base and pink watercolour flowers on it. It was pretty. With it in hand, she poured herself a cup. Drinking some, she peered at the clock–6:30 a.m. Eh, that gave her an hour to read and ten minutes to get ready. 

That in mind, she retrieved her book from her backpack and went to claim her spot from last night. When she passed Peter, she glanced down, noticing that he hadn’t moved at all. He was still curled on his side, facing the TV, with his arms tucked to his chest. She shook her head fondly and continued. Settling on the loveseat, she read for about ten minutes, before she decided that he’d slept enough. 

Untangling one leg, she kicked the couch. “Get up, Loser. We still have school today.”

On a normal morning, that would wake him, maybe causing him to jump onto the ceiling. He’d done it once or twice before. He’d fall back down and glare at her, grumbling about terrible wake-up calls but would ultimately start getting ready for the day. 

He did none of those things. 

When he didn’t immediately react, Michelle frowned and nudged his head with her toe. Still nothing. Setting her things aside, Michelle moved to stand over him and shake his shoulder. “Come on, man. It’s morning. I know they’re awful, but if I have to face it, you have to, too.”

Still, Peter didn’t wake. Her shaking caused him to fall onto his back and his head rolled limply around. And he was cold. Too cold. Frowning, she grabbed his arm and lightly pulled. When he still didn’t move, she drop it, not liking how chilled his skin was compared to hers; it felt like she was holding something that had been left in the fridge. Without her holding his arm up, it flopped back down without any resistance. His skin was also an unhealthy shade, looking washed out and dull.

Something cold and heavy started to form in her gut, and Michelle called without looking away from the pale face in front of her. “Maaay?”

At first, she didn’t get an answer, but then there were a soft thump and a curse. “I’m up. I’m up,” the woman yelled back and stumbled into the kitchen. “Oooh, I smell coffee.” May breathed in deeply and started towards the kitchen. “You must have made it. Peter can’t drink coffee, did you know that? It’s because of the spider bite. Apparently, it doesn't react well with him. We found that out when he stole a cup from Tony and–”

“May!” Michelle interrupted her, her voice tight.

“What?” 

“Peter isn’t waking up.”

May frowned from where she was pouring her own cup of coffee. Setting it aside, she came over to them. Michelle moved out of her way but couldn’t bring herself to sit back down. She settled with shifting her weight from foot to foot. 

Her eyes searching, May knelt by the couch, her hand falling onto her nephew’s arm. Immediately, she drew it back, and her eyes widened. Pressing her lips into a line, she shoved his shoulder. His arm slipped off the side of the couch and his half curled fingers brushed the carpet. 

His eyes weren’t even fluttering. A random fact drifted in the back of her mind as she watched him, she’d read that people still blink when they’re asleep. He wasn’t.

“Peter!” May snapped, and Michelle flinched, biting her lip and tightly crossed her arms over her chest. 

May pinched his arm, and getting no reaction, lifted one of his eyelids. Michelle wasn’t sure what she was looking for but obviously, she didn’t like what she found because she swore and pressed two fingers to his throat.

Ice filled Michelle’s veins and she stuttered, “D-does he…” She didn’t finish. Couldn’t. The question hung unanswered between them and they stayed in tense silence while May kept her fingers against his neck.

Peter didn't react at all when normally the slightest touch would wake him.

Time seemed to stretch around them, Michelle standing uselessly on the side as May’s gaze didn’t leave Peter’s face. 

He looked peaceful, she noted. Untroubled. There was no trace of a worried frown or even a smile. His face was never this empty when he was sleeping, always wearing some emotion. 

This–this was just blank.

Void. 

Her eyes snapped to May when she heard the woman’s breath hitch in her throat and she sat back. Her voice wobbled a little, but she told her, “He has a pulse. It's ungodly slow, but it's constant. That's something. Thank god. It’s something.”

Michelle nodded, rubbed a hand roughly over her cheek, turning away. She walked around and paced for a bit before leaning on the back of the loveseat. “So he’s… what would you call this?”

A heavy sigh rattled May’s frame and she scrubbed at her face. She was silent for a moment as her eyes flicked over her nephew’s frame. She bit her lip and started slowly, “He has a pulse. He’s still breathing. Whatever is wrong with him, he’s still…” she inhaled sharply and shook herself. “Whatever this is, it’s almost identical to a coma.”

Michelle stared back at her. “A coma,” she parroted flatly.

May’s mouth tightened into a flat line. “Yes. Maybe. I think. I don’t have anything with me to check properly but… it’s the only thing that is remotely close to this,” she admitted, waving her hands vaguely towards Peter.

“Okay…” Michelle started, so he wasn't dead. She couldn’t say it before, but it didn’t stop her from thinking it. Finding him like that… she shook her head. Exhaling heavily, she lowered her chin. “So, what do we do now?”

May opened her mouth but paused when she looked up at her, eyes narrowed. The older woman tilting her head minutely, observing her. There must have been something in her expression, but she didn’t know what it could be. Finally, May got up. “Tony. He might know what to do.”

Michelle scoffed, but May didn’t bother shooting her a glare before rushing around looking for her phone. She found it with her purse, sitting on one of the end tables. She grabbed it and hastily tapped the screen. Michelle came close enough to also hear, and they listened to the dial tone. It rang twice before a voice came through the speaker, “ _May? What’s up?_ ”

“Hi, Tony,” May started, her breath rushing out of her. “I need your help with something–”

“ _Wait just a sec,_ ” he cut her off and a clang sounded in the background. “ _No, you idiot. I needed that other there, not here. Honestly, Dum-E, you'd think–you know what? Never mind. I'll do it. Go make a smoothie or something._ ”

Michelle flicked her gaze to May to see her trying to glare at the phone pressed against her cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment before snapping, “Tony!”

“ _What?_ ”

“Peter isn’t waking up.”

Silence.

“ _What do you mean the kid isn’t waking up?_ ” he finally asked, his voice rising in pitch. “ _Just shake him or something. That normally works. Or dump some water on him._ ”

May sighed and tangled a hand into her hair. “We’ve tried. Well, most of that. I doubt water will do anything.”

“ _Who’s we? Aww, May, did someone stay over?_ ”

Michelle blinked–did he? Yes, he just asked that. She scowled at the cell but May smirked. “As a matter of fact, yes. MJ did. I didn’t want her going home in the storm last night.”

“ _Right,_ ” he muttered then continued. “ _Soooo, why won’t the kid wake up?_ ”

“We wouldn't be calling you if we knew that,” Michelle jumped in. May didn’t bother reprimanding her for her sharp tone. 

“ _Well, can you tell me what you_ do _know?_ ” Tony shot back. There was an odd strain to his voice that Michelle couldn’t place. 

May took it from there. Moving back to her nephew, she pressed her fingers to his throat again. “His breathing is shallow, he’s cold to the touch, but he has a pulse. A fucking slow one. Maybe three beats per minute. He’s pale and showing signs of being in a coma, but that doesn't explain the slow pulse.”

“ _Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me–what?_ ” Tony squawked. “ _He doesn't have a pulse!?_ ”

May’s eyes hardened. “Yes, he has a pulse,” she snapped. “Listen to me dammit. He’s breathing. He’s just not waking up. I don’t know how else to say it. He should be–he should be getting ready for school right now. But. He. Just. Isn’t.”

The line was silent. Michelle couldn’t blame the man. It was a lot to take in, but she wanted him to hurry up, to fix this. She bit her lip. She would already be doing something if she knew how, but she didn’t, so she stayed silent as Tony mulled it over.

“ _Happy will be there in twenty. I’ll call Bruce._ ”

May slumped and gripped Peter’s hand. “Thank you.”

“ _See you soon,_ ” he told them before hanging up.

May dropped the cell onto the low table and ran a hand through her hair. She sighed heavily, her elbow the only thing keeping her upright. She stared at Peter for a moment, thumb trailing her lip. She regarded her nephew silently but Michelle saw her laugh lines soften. Maybe she was thinking that if this was a normal day, she would love that Peter was sleeping in. But this wasn’t, and soon enough, her mouth tightened. 

Her eyes flicked up to Michelle before she hauled herself to her feet. “Well, Peter might be sleeping in but I still need Coffee.”

Michelle couldn’t help but snort.

––––––

Happy arrived twenty-five minutes later, knocking on their door. Michelle was the one that yanked it open. They stared at each other for a moment, the man raising a brow at her before asking, “Where is he?”

Wordlessly, Michelle stepped aside to allow him entry. He stalked into the Parker’s small home and his eyes snapped to Peter’s still form on the couch. After closing the door, Michelle followed him, moving so she could observe the man. She’d seen him a couple of times when he’d come to pick Peter up from school. Not too often, since he always seemed to stay in his black car. But when she had seen him outside, his face had always had been apathetic or a disinterested scowl. Now as she watched, his face slackened slightly and he blinked.

He just stood there for a moment and stared. His eyes finally snapped away when May walked in. Both May and Michelle had gotten dressed while they waited for Happy to arrive. May’s eyes locked to the man. “What took so long?”

“The plows aren’t on all the roads yet,” he responded easily, not seeming bothered by her sharp tone. “Come on, let's get the kid in the car.”

They didn’t argue and soon enough they were buckling him into the backseat of the car. Michelle took the one beside him while May chose to sit up front. Happy didn’t argue with her and they were off. He wasn’t joking about the plows not being out yet. The roads were slippery and dangerous. She wouldn't have been surprised if the school closed. 

Michelle closed her eyes and tried to ignore how tense the two adults were in the front. She peeked through her lashes and looked beside her. Peter was buckled in but was completely limp against the seat. In the gray light of the overcast morning, he looked even paler. At least the yellow of the lamps had given him a somewhat healthy sheen. The gray just made him looked even more washed out. Like there was no blood under his skin.

She whimpered and closed her eyes again, trying not to think of what that could mean. 

“Hey,” someone whispered gently and she looked to the passenger seat. May was half turned in her seat and her face was pinched, but she still tried to smile encouragingly at her. “He’s going to be okay.”

Michelle’s eyes roamed her for a moment, and she tried to come up with something, anything, that would convey that she was okay. She couldn't. Instead, she turned her face away, her lip quivering. 

Eyes closed, she swallowed heavily and felt Happy take a left turn. There was a rustle and a weight settled on her shoulder. She froze, her eyes snapping open, and she found herself looking over at him again. She’d had him fall asleep on her before, normally conking out after a study session or the odd time that he’d come over for a first aid patch up.

Pressing her lips into a line, she clamped down on a sob–this was different because he wasn’t present. Looking at him, she couldn’t see anything that made him Peter. There was no sleepy grumbling or rolling around, nothing.

It was wrong and set her teeth on edge, but she didn’t push him off. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. So instead, she squeezed her eyes shut and tightly laced her fingers together to the point that she could feel each bone. 

Michelle was thankful when she felt the car accelerate, Happy no doubt pressing hard on the gas. No one spoke for the rest of the trip.


	5. Really Peter?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May and Michelle get a little insight on what's going on with thier spider-boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I'm so sorry this is so late.  
> I'm not in any way, shape or form an expert on medical stuff and it turned into a gigantic writer's block. I'm sorry. I did do the research into spider habits in the winter but if I'm not right on some things I wouldn't mind gentle corrections.

Tony was already in the garage when they arrived. He was pacing in circles while a small medical team with a gurney waited off to the side. When Happy pulled up in front of them, Tony rushed to the vehicle. He opened the door on Peter’s side, and when he saw him, froze. His face went slack and he paled. 

Michelle glared at him while she unbuckled her friend. “Are you going to help?”

“Is it okay to move him?” Tony asked tightly, his pitch rising.

May climbed out from the front and peered over the open door. “Nothing bad happened when we carried him to the car. There’s nothing wrong with his head or spine. I checked. No bumps, no bruises–nothing. That’s the problem. Now move so we can get him to Dr Banner.”

“Right,” he squeaked and shifted, so the medical people could reach him. Michelle helped by gently pushing Peter towards them. Soon enough, they’d placed him on the gurney with everyone following them into the elevator. Tony, May, and Michelle watched as the nurses checked him over.

The silence lasted about five seconds.

His eyes never leaving Peter, Tony asked, “So, you just found him like this?”

May nodded and jerked her head to the girl pressing herself into the corner. “Michelle did. He’d slept on the couch. He’d fallen asleep while we were watching TV, and we didn’t want to wake him.”

Tony nodded absently, then tore his eyes away to look at her. She forced herself not to shrink under his gaze and even lifted her chin. He regarded her, eyes searching, before nodding and turning back to Peter. 

When the elevator doors opened, the crew rushed him forwards, and the three of them followed at a slower pace but no less urgent. They entered a small room that observed the larger area fully fitted with medical equipment that Michelle didn’t have any hope on identifying. She didn’t have the urge to either. Her eyes, instead, sought out Peter, whose gurney had been placed in the center of the room and the staff was starting to hook him up to different devices. 

As that was happening, a short man with dark, floppy bangs, over thick glasses rushed into the room. His eyes surveyed the people there before locking onto May. “What do we know?”

She blinked at him, then drew herself up. Quickly, she filled the man in on what she'd found, blinking a little more than she normally would. Banner nodded, and without another word, disappeared into the medical room. 

May went up to the glass, observing stoically, her gaze never leaving her nephew. Stark stood beside her for a moment before he caved and started to pace the length of the room. Michelle found herself collapsing quietly into one of the waiting chairs. Unlike a normal hospital, they were plush and comfortable—not that she could truly appreciate that then. 

She stared numbly down at her hands, twisting the cuff of her sweater between her fingers. She was probably damaging it, but she was too distracted to really care. Her mind was basically blank, her eyes staring vacantly down at her ministrations. To the point that when her phone pinged, she–Michelle Jones–jumped. It was her texting sound, the bell chime obnoxiously cheerful for the heavy atmosphere of the room. 

May didn’t even look away from the glass, her head only slightly turning towards her before returning her undivided attention to her boy. Tony, on the other hand, paused in his pacing to frown at her then pulled out his own phone, tapping away on it. 

Michelle grimaced and quickly fished it out of her pocket, seeing the notification on the lockscreen. One message from Ned. She bit back a groan when she saw who it was from. Tapping out her passcode, she opened the messenger app.

 **Ned** : You guys are late and Peter isn’t answering me. What happened?

Michelle snorted. Of course, he immediately knew that something was wrong. That was the only thing that was constant when dealing with Peter’s lateness. Muting her phone, she quickly tapped out a response.

 **MJ** : Wow the school is still open? You would think that with the snow it would be closed.

 **Ned** : It’s Midtown.

Okay, fair.

 **Ned** : You’re deflecting. What happened?

Michelle chewed her lip and glanced around. May had crossed her arms, shoulders hunched, looking like she wanted to curl into herself. Michelle watched her for a moment, debating on what she should or could say. Ned already knew about the whole spider problem–he knew before she did. Or before she fully knew–she’d had her suspicions since the field trip. So that crossed out the could, but should she tell him? She dug her teeth a little harder into her lip before making her choice. 

**MJ** : Peter won’t wake up.

 **Ned** : What.

 **Ned** : Did you threaten to burn his Legos? That normally works for me when he’s being lazy.

Michelle pressed her lips together to keep herself from snickering. Yeah, that sounded like the two dorks. 

**MJ** : As much as I appreciate the effort, it won’t help. Peter won’t wake up, no matter what May and I did. I found him like that this morning. He’s paler than normal and his heartbeat is stupidly slow.

 **Ned** : Wait, you found him? Aww did you spend the night ;)

 **MJ** : Ned. Not the time.

 **Ned** : Right, sorry.

 **MJ** : I did spend the night, but because May didn’t want me out in the storm.

 **Ned** : Right.

 **Ned** : So, what’s going on?

Quickly, Michelle filled him in on her morning, skimping slightly on the details of it, playing down just how… deathly their friend looked. He still needed to focus on class, after all. Her own stomach was in knots, and she didn’t have to sit still and listen to a teach drone on and on.

Finally, she’d caught him up. Her phone was silent for a few minutes before another message came through.

 **Ned** : … is he going to be ok?

Michelle drew back and stared down at her screen.

 **MJ** : I don’t know. 

Silence. 

God, that’s all she was hearing lately–empty silence. It’d been a long time since she’d had to put up with just an empty void of noise. Her eyes started to unfocus while she stared down at the cracks between the tiled floor. She blinked out of it when her phone vibrated in her hand. 

**Ned** : I’ll take notes for you.

Michelle smiled down at the screen, thankful for having a friend like him. He was so kind and almost as selfless as Peter. She nodded and pocketed her phone again, slumping back in the chair. 

Something came into her field of vision, and she saw a styrofoam coffee cup held out to her. Happy Hogan was on the other side of it. 

She eyed him for a moment before taking it with a quiet ‘thank you’.

He nodded and walked over to his boss, holding up another cup for him. Tony blinked dumbly at him before taking it. He downed a large gulp, grimaced, eyed the cup suspiciously before drinking more of it. Job done, Happy walked to stand by May, offering her a similar cup. She turned to him, eyes slightly red, and accepted the cup with a nod. They stood in silence after that.

Michelle watched them, sipping at her bitter coffee, her old habit of observing people taking over. She stayed still and silent, her eyes slightly unfocused as she took everything in. She was only snapped out of it when the two-way doors creaked open and a slumped shouldered Banner stepped out, scrubbing at his face.

May snapped to face him, stepping forwards with Happy at her heels. Michelle jumped to her feet, power walking over. Tony clicked his phone off and joined their huddle. 

The doctor eyed them wearily and sighed. “First of all, breath–all of you. He’s going to be okay.”

May’s shoulders relaxed, and she tipped her head back. “Oh, thank god. Is he going to wake up soon?”

Banner winced and pushed his glasses up his nose, although they were fine. May gave him a funny look and Tony frowned at him. “Brucie? What’s wrong?”

Banner crossed his arms under his chest and looked down. “When did his exhaustion start?”

Michelle, May, and Tony exchanged a look. “About a week ago? I just woke up and he was sluggish and not wanting to move. Which was completely different from the day before.”

Banner nodded at May’s answer. “Did he complains about being cold at all?”

“Yes,” Michelle interjected. They all turned to look at her, and she lifted her chin. 

Banner tilted his head and frowned, clearly not recognizing her. “Do you know how cold?” When she shook her head, he sighed. “Well, I’m not positive, but I think I know what’s wrong with him–he’s hibernating.”

He’s _what_? Michelle stared at the meek doctor, his hands shoved into his lab coat. He had dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders were hunched forwards. 

He winced when May squawked and blinked owlishly at him. “ _Excuse_ me?”

Banner grimaced, and his eyes flicked to Tony, whose jaw was hanging loosely. He sighed and took his glasses off and started to clean them. “Spiders can’t thermoregulate–the ones that don’t die each year, fall into a state similar to bears. For spiders, it’s not actually called hibernation–it’s diapause–but it’s easier to understand what he’s going through. He’s perfectly fine, his heartbeat and breathing are constant–even if the rate they’re going at would be fatal for a normal human. Basically, he’s just sleeping.”

“But–” Tony started, his jaw working uselessly. “He’s been like this for what–two years?” He jerked around to look at the people around him, and when they nodded in agreement, he swivelled back to stare at Banner. “Why is this happening now?”

Banner shrugged. “That’s what I’m not sure about. He’s not fully spider–it’s only like 35% of his DNA, so he doesn't need to go into diapause to survive. His human half allows him to still function. Something must have triggered his system to start making the antifreeze.”

“Wait,” May interjected again. “He has _what_ in his system?”

Banner blinked up at her, confused before his face slackened slightly and he grimaced. “Oh, um… Well, it’s how spiders slow themselves down so that they can survive. It’s not actual antifreeze. It just acts like it. He’s producing a compound unique only to him that slows down all of his functions. It’s what’s keeping him under.”

“Okay…” May started slowly, her eyes still wide. “So, how do we fix it?”

“Well, we first need to know why he’s hibernating now.” Banner turned to Tony. “Do you know if anything happened to him that would cause his system to kick in? Anything to do with sudden drops in his temperature.”

Tony opened his mouth then looked up at the ceiling. “Friday?”

“ _On it, Boss. I have Karen on the line now._ ” Stark nodded and scratched at his nose. 

Banner frowned, glancing between them. “Karen?”

Tony nodded. “She’s the AI that I put in his suit. Peter named her, don’t ask me why he chose it.”

Happy snorted, shooting his boss a smirk. “You named Friday on the day of the week you finished her coding. You have no room to talk.”

“Eh, shut up.”

May’s lips twitched at their bantering but then all of them looked up when Friday's voice sounded above, slight amusement tinting her Irish accent. “ _Karen and I have found the source of Peter’s issue. Last Wednesday, he was fighting by the docks when he fell into Jamaica Bay. His core temperature dropped dangerously low, and Karen suggested calling you so he could get proper treatment. He denied doing so, stating it would be ‘uncool’. He expressed embarrassment that he was thrown into the bay because of a man dressed up as a walrus._ ”

“Oh my god, Peter.” May closed her eyes and tipped her head back, looking resigned. 

Tony shook his head “Goddammit, kid.”

“Well, that would do it.” Banner mussed with a bewildered smirk on his face. “Getting tossed into freezing water would definitely start the diapause–shutting down his functions.” 

Tony groaned, covering his face with his hands. “And he didn’t think that something bad could happen?”

Friday made a sound similar to a hum before answering, “ _Karen said that she’d reminded him constantly that his core temperature was way below normal. He didn’t think it was that big of a deal–that just being a little sleepy was nothing to worry about._ ”

Stark sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Goddamn that kid. I’m going to throttle him when he wakes up.”

“Get in line,” May snapped and sighed heavily, covering her eyes with a hand. “Really, Peter?”

Tony grimaced but didn’t object. “Fine, then I get to chew him out after–”

“Me,” Michele interrupted. “I get to yell at him after May.”

Tony looked over at her, indignant, opening his mouth to argue, but something caused him to slowly close it. Maybe it was the glare she was giving him. 

“Fiiine,” he pouted. “I get him after the scary girl.”

Michelle blinked at the nickname but didn’t comment. May rolled her eyes then turned back to the doctor. “When will he wake up?”

Dr Banner took off his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt. “That… I’m not sure.” May’s face scrunched up, but before she could say anything, he plowed forwards. “Yet. What’s going on with him is hormonal and chemical. His body is reacting to his environment, so we have to do the same thing—introduce the counter chemicals into his system. Basically, turning on his internal alarm clock. But, we don’t know what that is yet. You’re going to have to give me a couple of hours to figure it out.”

May stared at him for a moment, incredulous before sighing, nodding. She rubbed her hands over cheeks, pressing hard enough to leave red marks. She glanced down at the watch on her wrist and her shoulders slumped. Looking back up to the men gathered around her, she bit her lip. “You’re sure that he’s not in danger?”

Dr Banner shook his head. “None–he’s perfectly safe. I set him up with an IV, so he doesn't get dehydrated, but his body has slowed so much that he doesn't really need it.”

She nodded then admitted, “I have work in a couple of hours. I hate to leave him but…”

“I’ll stay with him,” Michelle interrupted. Tony, who’d also opened his mouth, raised a brow at her. She glared back at him.

May frowned but didn’t dismiss her. “You sure? School should have started not that long ago.”

Michelle gave her a little smile. “I’m sure. I can miss a few days of school. You can’t miss work. Peter would never forgive himself.”

May nodded, rubbing a thumb along her chin before stepping forwards and wrapping Michelle in a hug. She melted into the embrace, clinging a little tighter than she normally would. She closed her eyes and breathed in the woman’s scent–lavenders and coconut. A few years ago, that particular combination wouldn’t have meant anything, but now she associated it with warmth and kindness—maybe even home. 

Finally, Michelle pulled away and gave the woman a small nod. May smiled back before glancing over to Happy. 

The man answered her silent question. “I’ll drive you back.”

She nodded and started towards the door but not before she shot Tony a look. “Keep him safe.”

The man scoffed and adopted a blinding smile, acting like he was in front of cameras. “When do I not?” At May's blank stare, his bluster dropped away. “Yeah, I got it. Don’t worry, shoo,” he added, flapping a hand at her.

May shook her head and left, Happy trailing behind.

When they were gone, Michelle approached Dr Banner. He glanced at her, eyes weary. Digging her hands into her pockets, she raised her chin, eyes drifting towards the glass window. “Can I sit with him?”

“Oh, sure.” He looked towards the door and back. “Yeah, that’s fine. Actually”—he turned towards Tony, who perked up—“Peter doesn’t need to stay in medical. We can move him to his room. It’ll be more comfortable for him.”

Tony blinked then nodded more enthusiastically, his head bobbing. “Oh, yeah–we can do that.” 

Dr Banner jerked his head in a sort of nod then disappeared back into the medical room. Probably to start transferring him. 

Tony spun on his heel, walking a few paces before freezing and swivelling to look at Michelle. “You haven’t had breakfast yet, have you?”

Michelle blinked at him, fighting to keep her jaw from hanging. She had not expected that. Tony smirked and jerked his head towards the hall. “Come on, I’m sure the bots can whip something up for you.”

Following him, she raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not sure I’d trust anything made by your robots.”

He gasped scandalously and put a hand on his chest, leaning away from her. “How dare you. My babies are perfectly fine at cooking. The kitchen ones anyway–don’t accept anything from Butterfingers or Dumb-E.”

“Noted.”


	6. Queit Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he's still asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh this took so long I'm so sorry.
> 
> other plot bunnies attacked me and kidnapped me to live in their camp with them. That's happened like three times. I finally fought my way back to this one. omg, I'm so sorry.
> 
> Another reason this chapter has taken so long is because of stupid small talk. omg, I love it but it sucks to write. I'm having the same problem on Long Time Coming... and in Spider Witch...
> 
> I'll get there, I'm sorry...

Michelle followed the billionaire to the elevator and stayed quiet, only looking up when Friday announced that they’d come to the penthouse. Michelle blinked and glanced towards Tony, a slight frown on her face.

He wasn’t looking at her though and continued on, walking like he owned the place, which he did—but you have to give off a certain vibe to seem that in control. He marched up to the stoves and counters, mouthing off to the weird looking bot on the counter that was in the middle of stirring a large bowl. 

“So, what’s for breakfast today, Mork-Mork? Ooohhh, waffles—yum. Oh, and is that strawberries? And whipped cream? What’s the occasion?”

Mork-Mork perked up slightly and beeped at him. It was circular but it seemed like every part of it was an arm of some sort. Three of them were slightly uncurled to raise itself up, so it’s surprisingly human-like hand could stir the batter it had already made. Looking at it, Michelle saw that it only had two ‘hands’ and everything else were metal poles with clamps. It beeped again and twisted to look at Michelle, who was hovering by the elevator doors. 

The arm not stirring the batter waved quickly at her, Mork-Mork beeping excitedly, making noises that reminded her of R2-D2. Not knowing what else to do, Michelle waved back at it, although much slower and less enthusiastically. Apparently satisfied with the greeting, the bot got back to cooking.

When she joined Tony around the island, he looked at her and blinked. “Shit, I forgot to ask you—are you allergic to anything? Eggs? Milk? Strawberries?”

Michelle shook her head, secretly impressed that he even thought to ask that. “No, I’m okay.”

“Right, good.” He nodded sharply, but not in a cutting way, he just moved in quick little movements. He drummed his hands on the polished marble counter. “Oh, right! Dishes,” he suddenly said and bustled over to a set of white cupboards. As he got out clean plates with little blue flowers on them, Michelle wondered for a moment if she should help, then realized she had no idea where anything was and just sat quietly while he moved around. Soon enough, he’d set places for two, while Michelle concealed her surprise that the billionaire was doing something as mundane as setting a table.

It wasn’t like she thought he couldn’t do it, just expected him to hand the job off to someone else. She was impressed that he didn’t. But then again, judging from what she’d heard from Peter, he was probably trying to keep himself busy, so he wasn’t working himself up into a panic. Looking at the slight tremor in his hands, she was pretty sure that was the case.

Satisfied with her conclusion, Michelle looked back to watch Mork-Mork as it filled the waffle iron. Looking passed it for a moment, her eyes caught on something on the counter. Slipping off her stool, she moved to it, catching Tony’s attention. “What are you doing?”

“Making a decent pot of coffee,” she told him and popped the lid up to see if there was a used filter in it. Surprisingly, there wasn’t.

“Oh, good idea—the grounds are in that jar, the medium one, and beside it are the filters.” 

Michelle nodded and reached for them. As she busied herself with putting the filter in and measuring the right amount of grounds, Tony pulled out a couple of mugs and placed them beside the glasses. 

As the coffee was coming to a brew, Mork-Mork beeped highly, getting her attention. Looking over, she saw the little bot ‘standing’ on the counter, beside the plate that were topped with waffles. Between the two plates there was a bottle of syrup and two bowls, one filled with cut strawberries, while the other was topped with whipped cream. It seemed to stand a little taller when she looked at it.

It looked so proud of itself. She couldn’t resist the way her lips twitched. “Thank you—it looks delicious,” she told it, genuinely smiling. 

“You go eat. I can finish the coffee,” Tony butted in, drawing her attention. She was surprised to see him beaming at her, a happy overtone to his face that made him look softer. She stared at him for a moment, taken aback. Sure, she’d heard from Peter how caring and warm the man could be, but she was surprised, admitting she’d let his social standing and past colour her view of him.

Now she just gave him a quiet nod and went over to the bar stools around the counter, slipping onto one. Mork-Mork watched her for a moment and her lips twitched a little higher—it looked like a puppy, excited to see if she liked it or not. Settling in her seat, she pointed to the bowl of cut fruit. “Could you pass that to me please?”

She didn’t know why she asked Mork-Mork that, the bowl was fully within her reach, but something compelled her to let the little bot be useful. Maybe it was her time around Peter. e tended to gush about how cute Dumb-E and his brothers could be. Wait, his other bots were male, and by its name, she assumed that this one was, too. 

She was rewarded with Mork-Mork perking up and grabbing the bowl and handing it to her. If he had a tail, it would be wagging. She bit her lip, although it did nothing to stop the wide grin from spreading over her face. As he held the bowl, Michelle scooped some strawberry slices onto her steaming waffles. When she put the spoon back into the bowl, the bot took it away while she poured syrup over her plate.

Finally tasting the meal, she dipped her head. “Not bad.”

Mork-Mork beeped and retracted his arms, becoming a perfect sphere to roll over to the other end of the island, coming to a stop on a little stand. From how it lit up the moment Mork-Mork settled on it, she figured that he went back to his charging station. 

“Peter helped make him.” Michelle blinked at Tony’s soft confession, it tearing her gaze from the now sleeping bot. Turning back to her, he set a mug down in front of her. Sitting down across from her, he nudged another container. “Here’s the sugar if you want any. Cream’s in the fridge.”

“I don’t…” Michelle started, then an image of Peter curling his lip at the bitter smell of coffee made her pause. He was always drinking or eating things filled with sugar, since his metabolism processed it too quickly. Wordlessly, she grabbed the small jar and heaped a spoonful into the mug, stirring harshly. She was thankful that nothing spilled. 

Tony didn’t comment, just sipping at his drink, glancing back at Mork-Mork.

Michelle drank some of her own cup, her face twisting a little at the sweetness. She swallowed, taking a small comfort in the sugar, despite not agreeing with the addition. “Who named him?”

Tony’s lips turned up into a smirk. “Unanimous agreement. I suggested it, though.”

She snorted. “Figured. It’s from the Muppets, right?”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that a jab at my age? I’ll have you know, Peter knew exactly what I was referencing.”

“Your argument is invalid,” she informed him cooly. “His favorite movie is Star Wars.” 

“You say that,” he pointed out blandly, “but you recognized it, too.”

Michelle raised a brow. “I’m best friends with two dorks. They’ve subjected me to many old things.”

“It’s not that old,” he grumbled, his mouth twisting, and she smirked, forking a mouthful of waffles into her mouth. 

They continued breakfast, bantering back and forth. Michelle found that she was actually enjoying her time with the billionaire. Sure, he was arrogant and argumentative, and a little ignorant to some of her ideals, but she found herself grinning at his befuddled looks. 

They were just discussing if his company was doing enough for the planet when Banner stumbled in. Both of them stopped and snapped their eyes to the dishevelled doctor. Tony got to his feet and started towards him, but he waved a hand at him. “Don’t. He’s just sleeping. It’s okay to leave him alone for a bit. Plus, Friday is watching him.”

Tony nodded but got up anyway, grabbing a plate for him, too. Banner settled into the spot beside Tony’s and murmured a quiet ‘thank you’ when his friend placed a full plate in front of him. He looked like he wanted to give Tony a hug when he handed him a mug of coffee.

Once Banner had eaten some, Tony tapped his fingers on the table. “Sooo… any ideas on the chemicals needed to wake him?”

The doctor was in the middle of chewing and just shook his head. “Not yet,” he admitted after swallowing, “but I have a few ideas. I’m going to look at it after this. I have to take some blood, though.” He raised his brows slightly. 

Tony waved his unspoken point aside. “May’s already given consent for anything that will save him. She’s also given me permission to choose on her behalf.”

Banner nodded, like he was expecting that and peeked at Michelle. She’d pushed her finished plate to the side and was silently watching them. 

“Who are you?” he asked quietly, eyes barely holding hers before flicking down to her hands. 

“Michelle,” she told him dryly. “I’m Peter’s friend.”

Banner nodded absently, like he expected that, which he would be stupid not to, considering she was here for Peter. Then his brows lowered into a sort of frown. “Michelle… do you go by something else?”

Michelle’s hands twitched and she looked a little closer at the doctor. His eyes had lifted to hover around her face. His lips twitched downwards thoughtfully. She mirrored him and cocked her head to the side. “What gives you that idea?”

He kept watching her. “As far as I know… Peter has two close friends, but they go by Ned and MJ.”

Ah. Michelle smirked. “That’s my nickname. It’s what my friends call me.”

Tony snorted. “The way Peter tells it, you have to go through hell to earn it.”

Michelle’s lips twitched into a genuine smile. “He does like to blow things out of proportion.”

“Or downplay something that shouldn’t be,” Tony muttered, a little darker. Michelle couldn’t blame him. She was pissed at Peter, too. 

Bruce nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little. “It’s nice to meet you, Michelle. Peter’s talk about you a lot.”

She paused, frowning. “Really?”

Tony snorted. “Oh yeah, the scary but really smart captain of his team? Yup, he’s talked about you.”

Bruce nodded in agreement. “When I have lab time with him, which is rare because you keep hogging him,” Bruce snipped to his friend who just grinned. “He’ll yammer about anything and everything if you let him. How amazing his friends are is a common topic.”

Michelle blinked, gripping her mug a little tighter, not knowing what to say. She bit her lip and looked down before downing the last of her coffee. The superheroes didn’t notice or think too hard on her silence because they went back to chatting as Bruce dug into his breakfast, Tony asking him about possible solutions. She recognized some of the chemicals that they were using, but Peter would have understood more. She sat with them for a moment before gathering up her bag and slipping off her chair, heading for the door that the doctor had come from.

Once out in the hall, she glanced up to the cameras. “Friday? That’s your name, right? Can you guide me to where Peter is?”

“ _Certainly, Miss Jones,_ ” the AI intoned and lit up the red emergency lights along the wall. “ _Just follow these and take the first door on the right._ ”

“Thank you,” Michelle told her and started forwards. As she went, she noticed that the lights flicked off behind her. It didn’t take long to find his room, and she slowly turned the knob of the plain, white door that Friday had shone a light on. 

Peter’s room was dim, the lights making his room look warm and soft. He was tucked in the large queen sized bed with his arm out for the IV. His room here was cleaner than the one in Queens, with less stuff in it, but it still had the Peter touch to it. The area around the bed had been obviously cleaned a little to make room for people to move about. 

Michelle stepped forwards, slinging her backpack off her shoulder as she went. Reaching his bed, she sat down in the comfy chair that had been placed there, dropping her bag on the floor. 

He looked the same. Even though they knew that he wasn’t in any danger, he didn’t magically look healthy. A part of her expected him to, even though it was a silly idea. He was still as unmoving and pale as before. Slowly reaching up, she lifted his arm and let it flop back down. Yup, still out. 

Michelle sighed and leaned back in the chair. She rubbed her hands over her face, leaving them pressed against her cheeks. “You scared the shit out of me, loser.” she muttered to him. “You owe me lunch.”

She glanced at him, half hoping that he would wake up, grumbling but eventually agreeing with a sappy smile. A couple moments passed and he didn’t stir. She grimaced and let her hands fall into her lap. She sat without moving, just watching his chest rise and fall. It was a slow process. 

After a while, she dug out her sketchbook and art pencils, grabbing a 4B. She wasn’t in the mood for the lightness of the HB graphite, nor the darkness of the higher Bs. Setting the book on her lap, she started a study of him, since he wouldn’t be moving for a while anyway. In the back of her head, she noticed the lights brighten slightly so her pad was easier to see. 

His head was half turned towards her, his cheek pressing gently against his pillow. His hair flopped over his scalp, although it looked like someone had tucked a lock behind his ear. Not worried about a time crunch, she took her time sketching him, grabbing her smudge stick out of her bag, so she could shade it right. Thanks to how the lights were set up, Peter didn’t have any harsh shadows across his face. It was nice to draw the soft edges. 

She was still working on proper human proportions, so she tried to focus on the shapes that made up his face. The motions of running the pencil over the page was repetitive but calming, allowing her mind to slow and process the morning she’d just gone through. Sometime later—she wasn’t paying attention to the time—she sat back and surveyed her work. Looking at it, and even though she’d drawn it, she was a little unnerved by her work. It was eerily similar to the real boy in front of her, but the slackness of his features done in black and white looked like nothing short of death. 

She closed her book with a snap and stuffed it into her bag, jamming her art tools back into their case. 

Flopping back, she resisted the urge to cry. He was fine, perfectly fine—just sleeping in, the ass. Missing more school and dragging her into his flakiness. She choked on a wet sob and placed a hand on her mouth, looking up at the ceiling. God—she’d thought… she’d thought he was dead. That he’d died and she’d been in the other room and not known it. That she’d let it happen, sleeping away when he was dying from… whatever had hurt him. 

She didn’t kid herself. She knew that being Spider-Man, Peter could die. Sure, he had more durability than normal humans thanks to that stupid spider, but he wasn’t indestructible. A bullet would still hurt him. She knew that. She’d seen him fall into her room, dripping blood, more times than she could count on her hand. She was aware of the danger, but… but this… She’d been right there. 

Michelle sucked in another breath and pressed her lips into a line, almost painful with the force of it. A whimper still escaped her. 

“ _Are you alright Miss Jones?_ ” Friday asked, making her jump. “ _You appear to be distressed._ ”

Snapping her head around she looked for the camera in Peter’s room but couldn’t find any obvious ones. “No, I'm okay,” she choked out, eyes going to the ceiling corners. 

“ _Are you sure? I could fetch someone for you, if you wish._ ”

“No, no—that’s okay. I’m fine,” she assured the AI, wondering distantly how emotive she was, if she could pick up on Michelle's little breakdown. “How did you know?”

“ _If you are referring to how I knew your emotional state, Boss has installed sensors within Peter’s room. Peter tends to suffer from nightmares and Boss likes to know about it. However he wouldn’t invade Peter’s privacy with a camera,_ ” Friday informed her, sounding oddly proud.

Michelle sat back, sinking against the cushion. “Huh… cool.” That was very sweet of him. She knew from her own experience that Peter would never talk about his nightmares willingly, from the few times he’d had them after a study session. The most he’d tell her was that he’d never wanted to be in a collapsing building again. That alone gave her shivers. What exactly had he gone through?

She didn’t have the answers, and she wouldn’t needle him for them. She’dbe patient—he’d tell her when he was ready. 

Her eyes flickered to the still form of her friend. He’d have to wake up to do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy that you guys like this story that was supposed to be a one shot...
> 
> ya, I suck at keeping things short. I should know that by now but I didn't, go fig.
> 
> Anyway!! I've open art commission slots over on my [tumblr](https://heatherica45.tumblr.com/) if anyone is interested in that.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading my fic.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated.
> 
> I have some art for it over on my [Tumblr](https://heatherica45.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also big thanks to my Beta; [Snarkymuch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkymuch/pseuds/snarkymuch)


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